Losing
by bj
Summary: One night in Manchester, the senior staff fell apart.


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URL: http://www.angelfire.com/bc2/allcanadiangirl  
  
  
Losing  
By BJ Garrett  
  
  
One night in Manchester, the senior staff fell apart. It started like any other post-meeting-with-annoyed-Leo comfort session.  
  
Only half-joking, Josh said, "Okay, so when we get back, I'm learning how to compromise. A lot."  
  
"Basically, yes," Sam replied.  
  
CJ cleared her throat. The theoretically informal meeting had been about leaking press releases, resigning, and/or getting along with campaign advisors. She had spoken for at least ten minutes on the whys and wherefores of press relations, hoping to impart whatever good advice she had on the subject before leaving the administration.  
  
Josh and Sam had looked at her, mystified, wanting to interrupt her pointless ramble to get back to the real issues, while Toby and Leo glared at her in their own special ways, knowing why she was filibustering a staff meeting but unable to stop her without letting the cat out of the bag. It was her cat, and she'd let it out when she chose.  
  
So CJ cleared her now-sore throat, leaning against a low table.  
  
Toby entered and cut through the room into the darkest corner, sitting heavily on an overstuffed sofa. The other three were silent for a moment, fooled by his aura of theatrical melancholy into expecting him to speak. He didn't.  
  
"It's not fair, Sam," Josh continued in a light voice, eyeing Toby warily. "Not fair at all."  
  
Dryly, CJ said, "It's not supposed to be fair, Smokey, it's politics."  
  
Absently, Josh repeated, "Smokey?"  
  
"Where did that come from?" Sam asked, smiling, incredulous. The bad vibes circling in the room had not yet hit him.  
  
Suddenly, they realised the nickname was a reference to the tobacco release, and Josh scowled. Sam sat on a better-lit couch, rubbing his hands together nervously.  
  
Toby crossed his ankles.  
  
Defeat lurked in the air between the four of them, became sensory, a hum and a low whistle, like a far-off train. They realised they were tied to the tracks.  
  
CJ took a deep breath, stopped struggling against the ropes. "To tell you the truth, I've already given up."  
  
"Thank you, CJ. That makes me feel a lot better," Josh replied, throwing up his hands.  
  
"We've all given up," she added. "We don't know what we're doing. We're going to lose."  
  
"There's this little thing called morale, CJ, and..."  
  
"Morale's not much good when you're going to *lose.*"  
  
"You're just saying that because you screwed up on Haiti."  
  
"Oh, really, Josh? Really? I didn't know that. I was unaware of screwing up on Haiti."   
  
"CJ, come on-"  
  
"Shut up, Sam." He did, frozen by the fierce look on her face. "Yes, I did, I fucked up, but I'm not the only one, Josh." She stared him down. He backed off, turning away, leaning one hand on the flowered wall.  
  
She was not satisfied with his withdrawal. "For example, class. I give you Sam."  
  
Who raised his eyebrows, surprised.  
  
"You wouldn't let him apologise."  
  
"He refused to apologise, Leo refused to let him apologise. I want him to apologise!"  
  
"You write the speeches, Sam. You write them. If the speech says he apologises, he apologises. Didn't you write the speech?"  
  
"Yes, but Toby-"  
  
"She's lost it, Sam. Don't bother."  
  
"I have not lost it, Josh. You. You think we should try to make friends of our enemies instead of vet the friends we've got."  
  
"I think we should be stacking the deck-"  
  
"I'd rather have half a stable of prime thoroughbreds than one full of lame quarter-horses. You know why?"  
  
Toby intoned, "Either way, you're going to lose."  
  
She pointed in his direction, still glaring at Josh. "Exactly. And you might as well look good while you're at it. Because we don't know what we're doing."  
  
"CJ!" Josh and Sam exclaimed together.  
  
"I know what I'm doing."  
  
The three of them looked away from each other into the corner, where Toby glowered in half-light.  
  
And as if they had all started speaking at once, he repeated loudly, "I said I know what I'm doing! If we're losing, I know what I'm doing. I'm good at losing. Watch the master."  
  
Josh put a hand out. "Toby-"  
  
"Take comfort in the fact that you're running under a veteran. I know how to lose. I know what I'm doing." In an ancient movement, he rose.  
  
Sam put his head in his hands. No good could come of this.  
  
Stomach in knots, Josh tried again to salvage them. "Toby, she didn't-"  
  
Toby slouched to the door, shaking his head. "Go to hell, all of you. Just...go."  
  
He was gone. There was silence again, for a few minutes, while they tried to digest the several bad ways this conversation could end now that they'd insulted each other and Toby had abandoned them.  
  
Exhaling loudly, Sam swung his arms down between his legs.  
  
"I did, you know," CJ said.  
  
Josh looked up, eyebrows drawn together. "What?"  
  
"Whatever you were going to say I didn't, I did."  
  
"Oh. Yeah."  
  
Not sure whether she was tired or being sarcastic, she added, "You don't look a thing like Connie, and God help me, I'd better not be going bald."  
  
Josh lifted and dropped his shoulders a couple of times, as if he were laughing silently. His face was blank and indifferent.  
  
Slowly, hands clasped between his knees like a child, Sam asked, "Do you really think we're going to lose?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
He nodded, staring at the inlaid leg of a coffee table. "Do you think we're going to lose badly?"  
  
Josh turned away again, unable to face her certainty and Sam's willingness to believe her, not knowing what to say to change the reality of their conversation.  
  
"I don't think there's a way we can lose well, Sam," CJ replied gently. "Good night."  
  
She walked out, trailing fatalism. Sam stood. He put his hands in his pockets and looked sideways at Josh. "She's right, you know."  
  
"We don't do this, Sam. Don't. Not, not after four years of our lives. I won't do it," Josh replied. "And you can't."  
  
They recalled how much they'd put into those four years, how much they had given up or foregone to attain those four years.  
  
Sam nodded. "You're right, too."  
  
"Give the man a prize."  
  
The sitting room turned cold as they stayed silent. Undecided, unmoving.  
  
One night in Manchester, the senior staff fell apart. 


End file.
